Tapping In: An interview with Bill Rauch, director of "Steelbound"

I visited the Steel Festival in Bethlehem September 9-12, 1999, attending performances of "Steelbound," "Stories of Steel" and the Singer-songwriter Project, and I walked the streets of South Bethlehem with the Steel Choir as they sang in front of restaurants, churches, rest homes and businesses. Each event had its own unique flavor, but consistently, the community participants showed me a boundless enthusiasm for their tasks. It was more than obvious that this arts project was one of the most stimulating and rewarding things these people had ever been involved in. "Steelbound" was a runaway hit. It was a real honor to be there.

I was fortunate to have the opportunity to interview Cornerstone Theater founding member Bill Rauch, who directed "Steelbound" and was in town for the premiere. Our interview took place just before HBO debuted a film about Cornerstone's breakneck tour across the United States in the late '80s, working with communities to produce adaptations of classic plays, based on current issues vital to that community.

Bill Rauch at the Steel Festival with Touchstone director Mark McKenna, photo by Linda Frye Burnham

Bill Rauch and I are old acquaintances from the early '90s in California, where I had the distinct pleasure of serving as Cornerstone's landlord at the 18th Street Arts Complex in Santa Monica. Cornerstone has accomplished a great deal in the interim, working in diverse communities in Los Angeles and across the United States.

Fairly unusual for Cornerstone, the company was contracted to write and direct the play for the Steel Festival. According to Touchstone Director Mark McKenna, Touchstone had already identified "Prometheus Bound" as a crucible for the community's agony and bewilderment over the loss of their hometown industry. But a straight reading of Aeschylus' masterpiece didn't seem to get to the heart of the matter for the steelworkers. Cornerstone was an obvious choice to adapt the theme of Prometheus to the plight of the steelworkers, spiritually and emotionally still chained to this workplace.

I was curious to see what "Steelbound" gained from the Cornerstone process, and what Rauch would take away. He talked about the thrill of creating this piece in the right place at the right time, since the final phase of the mill closure happened only last year while they were working on the play.

Linda Burnham: What made "Steelbound" a unique experience for you?

Bill Rauch: The passion of the community for this project was extraordinary. It was joyous, it never got "stuck." After the initial audition, usually only about 65 percent answer the callback. Here it was 95 percent. Also, it was unusual to have a higher percentage of men in the rehearsal process.

LB: What's the main lesson you learned in the past that was applied here?

BR: Picking a story that relates to the community. "Romeo and Juliet" was done in Mississippi where the schools were segregated, so the connection was obvious. We did "Tartuffe" in Washington, and there was no obvious connection, but the play became about the farming crisis. The story of Bethlehem Steel galvanized this community—everybody worked or related to Bethlehem Steel. It's been really thrilling as an artist to work on material where the community is so connected. It's tapping into something.

LB: Have you done many commissions?

BR: This is the first time working for a company that's a similar size to ours. We've worked with Arena Stage, New York Shakespeare Festival—here there's not as much staff infrastructure, but Touchstone is rooted in the community.

LB: What's the primary lesson you will take from this project?

BR: To work slowly. I'm doing a project now with Longwharf Theater, and I asked for two-and-a-half years. Also, the more years I do the work the more I try to learn about the balance between planning and the happy accidents that occur. I keep relearning this with more profundity and don't panic as much.

LB: What was the biggest challenge?

BR: It's still scheduling—working with nonprofessionals around their work and school schedules. The answer, I think, is to make it financially feasible for people to a take a vacation week off. That's where the strain gets the hardest: No time to make adjustments to the script and the direction during the day because everyone is at work.

LB: You've said that in attracting new audiences you've become a better artist? Have you? What new qualities have you developed?

BR: Yes, it has made me a better artist. I had a hunger for the social and political context of a work of art before Cornerstone, but when you do a play WITH a person, you understand the issue of who speaks for whom, those first-voice issues.

LB: Have you ever made a professional mistake?

BR: Speaking only for myself, not for the company, its was a mistake letting Cornerstone remain an all-white ensemble for as long as we did.

LB: Has your mission changed?

BR: Our mission comes from the same source of inspiration, but our articulation of it has changed. We started with disparate communities and didn't know we wanted to invite them to work together. Now we do these Bridge Shows, where the casts of shows from two communities come together. Now we're working on "The BH Show" with four communities in Los Angeles whose initials are BH (or close): Beverly Hills, Boyle Heights, Baldwin Hills and Broadway and Hill. [These communities are primarily white, Latino, black and Chinese, respectively. -LB].

LB: Los Angeles has experienced a lot of racial strife since we last saw each other. You are working across racial lines: Is it more difficult?

BR: We started work in L.A. at Angelus Plaza the day after the riots [1992]. The worse things get, the more important the work gets. When it feels the hardest, that's when you know it's important to work even harder.

LB: There's not much money in this line of work. How do you weigh decisions about economics and income?

BR: We've gotten better at drawing the line. Cornerstone used to be a full-time job for everybody that paid little. Now it's a part-time job that pays better.

LB: When you were a little boy, what did you want to be when you grew up?

BR: An actor! I used to put on plays in my bedroom, and make my parents and grandparents sit in the closet. I'd close the door on them till we were ready to start. Pretty funny for a gay man. I acted till I was a freshman in college. Then I directed my first play, and it was … like turning on a light switch.

Linda Frye Burnham is a codirector of Art in the Public Interest.

Original CAN/API publication: October 1999